BoulderClan: Cats of Highstones
by SilverCascade14
Summary: Wolfpaw never much liked the rain. As an apprentice it would mean a cold and uncomfortable walk home from training.For a short time in his late adolescence it had meant a cold and uncomfortable night in the forest. Now, the dark clouds and low rumbles of thunder were bringing something much more uncomfortable… This wasn't a sad storm, it was a dangerous one.
1. Prologue

**Yes! 0^0 First story! –Wonderfully beta-read by Ultimate Jelly Sandwich, whom I thank with a very special cookie. *hands cookie* I advise you not to smell it. ._.**

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The lean, dark-furred tabby tom stalked along the dank, gray trees in silent frustration, his hefty brown paws making no sound as he traipsed along the vast, empty forest. He wondered how long this ungrateful she-cat would make him wait—other cats would leap at the chance to live a second life, but she didn't seem to care. Of all the heartless cats in the dark forest, why had _she_ been the one he relied on so heavily?

The massive tom's thick tail lashed angrily at her absence. He'd be happy when this was all over. Putting up with this arrogant, temperamental rogue was pushing his own temper to its limits. Minutes passed, and there was still no sign of the dark tabby's alleged associate, and he parted his jaws to taste the damp air. _Nothing_. He would make her pay for this, one way or another. Every cat, dead or alive, knew that it wasn't smart to keep him waiting.

As he made his way to the sluggish river, its waters dark and lifeless, he plopped himself down on the bank, muttering insults left and right toward his absent cohort.

It wasn't long before the battle-scarred, golden tabby approached, her pace just as listless as the river. She seated herself on the opposite bank, inclining her head and waiting for the tom to speak.

"Took you long enough," he snorted.

The golden tabby merely brought her tongue down over her paw, washing her ears indifferently. Her tail flicked in acknowledgement, but nothing more.

The tabby tom narrowed his pale amber eyes inquisitively. "You act as though you'd _prefer_ living in this dreadfully barren place," he meowed, surprised.

"I can assure you that I do not," she mewed back, casting an upward glance from her paw. "But you are in no position to be making demands. You summoned me because you needed me; I'll move as fast or as slow as I like."

The she-cat continued washing her ears as though they were finished conversing, and the broad-shouldered warrior took a threatening step forward. "You obviously doubt my power. I'm so dangerous I could—"

"Oh yes, I'm aware of what you can do, you useless lump of fur." Her voice was dripping with sarcasm. "I am also aware of what _Scourge_ is capable of, and I'm sure he won't be pleased at all when he hears of your threats, however shallow they may be."

The massive tom hesitated, unsheathing his claws and digging them into the bare ground underneath. This she-cat was cocky. Working with her was going to be a real challenge. "I've been to see Tarot," he reported, changing the subject evenly.

"And? Is she going to fix that split in your ear? Good riddance. I was growing tired of having to look at that poor excuse of an appendage."

"Very funny," he meowed dryly.

"I try."

The tom twitched his ear impatiently. "She says that your kit—"

"The gray one?" she let out a _mrrow _of amusement. "Are you telling me that mewling little good-for-nothing is of interest to you? Tigerkit, you really have hit rock bottom, haven't you?"

"Tiger_star,_" the warrior growled in retort.

"Well, Tiger_kit_," the golden tabby responded, swishing her tail uninterestedly. "Do whatever you like with the runt. He is of no importance to me."

"Gladly," he grunted back.

"Great. Then," the golden tabby meowed, getting to her feet. "I didn't care what you were planning to do with him; summoning me was a waste of my time."

"That's where you're wrong, Huntress," Tigerstar meowed. "You're the only cat who can convince him to carry out my plans."

The golden she-cat's ear flicked inquisitively. "And why would that be…?"

"Because you are his mother," he meowed. "If any cat were going to manipulate him, I'm sure you would have the least trouble."

Huntress curled her long, winding tail over her paws, mulling over what the dark warrior had just said.

"Your hesitance is foolish," Tigerstar meowed. "Surely you wouldn't pass up a second chance at life because of a petty quarrel with your kin?"

"That sniveling runt was nothing more than a burden. I'm _here_ because of him," she snapped.

"And you'd rather stay here and sulk like a spoiled kit?" he retorted. "_Think_, Huntress. When I—_we_ rule the forest, you can do away with the nuisance. He'll be nothing more than a tattered memory."

Her tail flicked once again as she pondered the offer, tossing the thought around in her once-beautiful head. "… I'll do it," she meowed, malice burning in her voice.

Tigerstar nodded, but said nothing. He crouched down, his muscled bunched, and lunged across the river and onto the tabby in a single bound, gripping her throat with his teeth.

* * *

Huntress gasped in surprise, her paws flailing helplessly on the lush grass that lay underneath—"Wha—? Grass…?" she rolled over and felt around the earth below, her tail flicking uneasily. The dark forest has never had grass. Nor did it have… sunlight?

The golden tabby raised her head to the beaming sunlight, narrowing her vivid green eyes as they adjusted to the sun's harsh glare. The land before her was abundant and gorgeous, the air crisp with wild smells. She could even scent the mouthwatering smell of prey—a scent that she'd almost forgotten in the seasons. "Tigerkit must have sent me back," she mewed to herself, looking down on her own frayed fur. It was thick now. Flourishing and consistent, the bare patches drowned in fur. Even her scars had gone. She had been restored to her former beauty. Never before had Huntress felt so happy to be alive. Though, one thought lingered in her mind. "I have to find Wolfpaw," she mused.

A wicked smile tugged at her muzzle as she unsheathed her claws. She'd have her revenge on BoulderClan soon enough…

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**And that's the prologue! ^.^ I also forgot to say that this is set between ****_The Darkest Hour_**** and ****_Moonrise._**

**Next chapter's going to be a whole lot longer, and I apologize if this was too short. Reviews are appreciated. **


	2. Calm Before The Storm

**Chapter 2~ Woot! **

**Again, short—I know. T^T I plan to make my chapters a lot longer than this, but I don't want to force it and make the chapter dry and boring. XD I'll be putting the allegiances up on my profile along with the bio sheet ('Cuz I found out recently that putting it in the prologue is a big no-no). Check it out if you're still interested. If not, then read. ^.^ Enjoy! **

The dawn air was thick and quiet, just like every morning in Highstones. There were no birds to sing the morning's melody, no prey to scuffle along and tempt the apprentice, and no wind to ruffle his pale gray fur. Greenleaf may be a plentiful season, but it definitely had its drawbacks. The Twoleg mines became humid and damp, and the ash that littered the ground was almost as acrid as the stench of the Thunderpath. There was no prey other than the rare occasion that some cat is fortunate enough to come across a mouse, and even then it was usually crowfood by the time they'd find it.

Wolfpaw heaved a heavy sigh as he watched the sun slowly disappear into a mass of clouds, eliciting the damp smell of an approaching storm from the entrance of the mine. The last remnants of Silverpelt began disappearing along with the light, much to the apprentice's dismay.

Wolfpaw never much liked the rain.

As an apprentice it would mean a cold an uncomfortable walk home from training. For a short time in his late adolescence it had meant a cold and uncomfortable night in the forest. Now, sitting in his den in the abandoned Twoleg mines, the dark clouds and low rumbles of thunder were bringing something much more uncomfortable…

Memories. Nothing good had ever happened when it rained. Nothing normal. Thinking back to some of the strangest or worst nights of his life, for some reason, it had always been raining. Like the night the Twolegs took over their forest. Or the day he lost his mother. Now, staring out at the storm that was threatening to drench the mines, he could sense the uncomfortable electricity in the air.

The thick dark clouds hadn't let the water fall, not yet anyway. But they would. This wasn't a sad storm, this was a dangerous one. It was an omen.

"Good morning, Wolfpaw."

The gray tom whipped his head around quickly to see a slender, light silver-gray and black tabby she-cat with soft, glossy fur and bright blue eyes. She stared at him, inclining her head curiously as he sat there. Wolfpaw tried not to stare as she stretched her lithe frame, yawning. "What are you doing out here so early?"

"I uh… nothing," he mewed, shying away from her gaze. "Nothing important."

"Mind if I sit?" she asked.

Wolfpaw shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. "Sure."

Wordlessly, she padded over and seated herself beside her den mate. Wolfpaw was painfully aware of her eyes on him the whole time. He tried not to notice, but after a while, he found himself doing something stupid to break the tension. "Uh, Silverpaw? Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course," she meowed back, her sapphire eyes glittered with interest. "What's the matter?"

For a moment, Wolfpaw was at a loss for words. He hadn't really thought of what he was going to ask her. Now he just felt foolish. He opened his mouth to reply awkwardly, but just before he could speak, a roll of thunder rumbled from above and the blackened skies and opened to unleash the flood onto the land below.

Soon after, a cluster of cats came darting into the dark tunnel, trying to escape the rain. He didn't need to strain his eyes to identify the group of cats; he caught their fear-scent and immediately recognized them as the dawn patrol.

At the head of the group was the BoulderClan deputy, Lilyflight. She licked at her soggy ginger-and-white pelt vigorously, trying vainly to get her fur dry. On either side of her were two warriors, Vinetail and Mistchaser. Bringing up the rear were Foxpaw, a ginger tabby, and Emberpaw, another russet-furred apprentice.

"Stupid rain," Vinetail growled, shaking raindrops from his raven pelt. "Of all the days for it to rain, it _had_ to be today."

"You said it," Foxpaw consented, drying his ginger forepaws. "We couldn't scout very far in weather like this."

Mistchaser merely stared around the dark chamber, her emerald gaze making Wolfpaw feel uncomfortable.

"Morning, guys!" Silverpaw mewed, her tone more upbeat. "How was patrol? Did you find anything interesting?"

"How do you think?" Vinetail meowed back crossly. "You must have bees in your brain. Not even _rats_ would find these mines interesting." Emberpaw snorted at the prickly tom, but he paid her no mind.

Ignoring the cranky warrior, she turned to Lilyflight. "Did anything interesting happen while you were out?"

The white warrior shook her head. "Nothing out of the ordinary." She narrowed her eyes to try and peer into the darkness. "Have either of you seen Cliffstar this morning?"

"He's still asleep," Wolftail spoke up, suddenly regretting it.

All eyes were on him now, and he noticed with regret that Foxpaw was eyeing him with a wry grin. He shot the tabby a pleading look, begging him to keep quiet—however rare that may be—and immediately fixed his eyes on his paws. There was always an air of suspicion whenever he spoke, as if the other cats were wary of his word. Despite how hard he worked for their trust, he never seemed to have earned it. "Err, last time I checked," he added quietly, shuffling at his paws.

He spied a tinge of sympathy from Mistchaser as she gazed at him, and immediately felt bad when Vinetail leant into Lilyflight and whispered, "I think you should check anyway…"

The white warrior nodded, padding further into the dark tunnel with the rest of the patrol, and Silverpaw, who tagged along to hear more about the watch. He noticed while they left that their wet pelts clung to their ribs instead of muscles, and tried his best to suppress a shudder. Starvation had made the warriors thin and weak, and he couldn't help but feel guilty that he didn't share in their desperation. The only other who stayed was Foxpaw, who sat beside his friend, still smirking. "_What_?" he demanded, looking up from his paws. "Why are you staring at me like that?"

"Oh nothing," he began casually. "I just noticed that you were sitting here, _alone, _with Silverpaw."

"And?" Wolfpaw prompted.

The wiry tabby's smirk broadened. "I just thought it was cute that you're padding after her like you are."

Wolfpaw suddenly felt hot under his fur. "W-what are you talking about? There's nothing between me and Silverpaw!"

The tabby apprentice's whiskers twitched with amusement. "Whatever you say," he mewed. "But if you like her, you should just tell her. Don't be a kit about it."

In that same instant, a roll of thunder roared, echoing into the mine fiercely. Foxpaw nearly jumped out of his fur, his ears flat against his head as Wolfpaw snorted.

"And I'm supposed to take advice from you?" the gray apprentice drawled, whiskers twitching in amusement.

"Of course," Foxpaw meowed back haughtily. "I _am_ the awesome one!"

"Sure, and I'm a hedgehog!" came a voice from deeper inside the mine.

Just then, two apprentices came padding out of the den, one with a pale-gray pelt and the other a deep shade of black. Just behind them was a white she-cat warrior with ginger, brown, and black dappled onto her pelt. Foxpaw and Wolfpaw dipped their heads in greeting, and the three cats respectfully returned the gesture.

"Good morning," the gray she-cat meowed.

"Good morning, Sweetpaw," Foxpaw meowed back. "Where are you guys going? It's raining _us_ out there!"

"Spottedheart's going to teach me and Blackpaw the Badger Defense," Sweetpaw meowed back, her brother nodding.

"Lilyflight says they've scented more badgers by the Thunderpath, so we thought we'd brush up on our technique," Blackpaw chimed.

"In the rain? You all must be mad!"

Spottedheart let out a _mrrow_ of laughter. "Would you like to come along? I'd be happy to teach you two as well."

"Sure," Foxpaw replied with gusto. "Are you coming, Wolfpaw?"

"No thanks; Lionfang would be pretty upset if I went out without his permission." He curled his tail around his paws and fixed his gaze to the sandy mine floor.

Spottedheart nodded sympathetically. "If you change your mind, we'll be right outside."

…

"You'll have to do better than that, Wolfpaw," Lionfang meowed curtly. "An enemy can take you down in a heartbeat when you move that slowly."

To prove his point, the mentor swiped at his apprentice's paws, sending him onto the ground with a painful thud. He placed his golden-brown paw on the young tom's belly as he tried to regain his footing. "If _I_ were an enemy, you'd be crowfood."

"I'm _trying_," Wolfpaw growled, his patience wearing thin.

"Then try harder," the gruff tom grunted back. "Now, let's try again."

The gray apprentice groaned inwardly as his mentor crouched again. He didn't know how much longer this would go on. When the warrior leapt, he tried to think of a quick direction to dodge, but took too long and was tackled yet again. "You're thinking too much," he meowed, his tail twitching impatiently. "You won't have that luxury out on the battlefield. Don't think—just do."

"If I don't think, how can I do?" Wolfpaw growled back.

Lionfang snorted. "You're a cat. Follow your instincts."

Wolfpaw opened his mouth to reply, but before he could say anything, a bundle of ginger fur came bounding toward them. "Lionfang!" he yowled. "Rogues are invading the camp!"

"W-what…?" Wolfpaw could barely breathe. Rogues, when their clan was so weak? They didn't stand a chance.

If he couldn't defend himself against his own mentor, how could he defend the camp against rogues who didn't abide by the warrior code?

Lionfang's ear twitched, his expression unreadable as the golden-brown tom's dull emerald eyes swept over the two apprentices. His stare lingered over Wolfpaw in particular, and the gray apprentice fought back another shudder. "Looks like you're about to be assessed," he meowed quickly. "Let's go."

He disappeared without another word, and Wolfpaw shuddered, his fur visibly rippling. The tabby apprentice took note, touching his nose to his companion's flank for comfort. "Come on," he mewed good-naturedly. "Lionfang will have our tails off if we're caught sitting around when there's a battle to be won."

With one last nod the apprentices took off, and, as if sucking the optimism from his best friend, Wolfpaw also disappeared into the tunnel.

…

They appeared in the dank, twoleg mines to see a mass of cats at war, a flurry of teeth and claws as fur was torn and blood was shed. Not too far ahead, Lionfang was taking on two huge toms, each comparing horribly to the vicious warrior. They spat and clawed at him, but he retaliated quickly, batting his huge paws at their faces, then put all of his weight on his front paws and kicked back at an enemy that was almost a fox-length away in a failed attempt to flay him. Wolftail wished his mentor's ferociousness could rub off on him some day; maybe then he wouldn't be such a _coward_.

The ginger apprentice was more than happy to leap into the fray, disappearing into a mess of claws, and Wolftail was left alone, staring into the mine with horror.

He shut his eyes and took a shaky breath, the screeching and snarling echoing in his mind as he tried summoning his courage. He would fight today. He would prove himself to his clan. He was going to show them that he _can_ be trusted, and they wouldn't care if he were a rogue or not. Today he was going to make his clan proud.

He took a hesitant leap into the mass of cats just as his companion had, targeting a stiff white tom, and but was knocked away almost immediately by a golden-pelted she-cat, whose emerald eyes bore into him in viciously.

She raised a paw to bat at the gray tom, her claws still oddly sheathed, but her eyes widened in surprise when she recognized him. "Wolfpaw!" she yowled. "You're okay!"

When he gave her a confused, horror-struck expression, she continued. "Do you remember me? It's…" her voice seemed forced as she begrudgingly choked out her last words. "It's your mother…"

Wolfpaw stopped breathing for a moment, taken aback. That couldn't be true…. His mother died on the Thunderpath. He saw it with his own eyes. The image would be forever burned into his skull of the scarred, mangled body that lay beside the tarry road, lip curled in a last snarl of defiance…

But this she-cat was gorgeous. Her fur seemed as soft as a kit's, without any wounds or scratches, and her voice wasn't as hoarse and sharp as he remembered, however vaguely. The screeching and yowling seemed to die away as he gaped at the beautiful tabby. "You… it can't be…"

"Believe it," she meowed, uncharacteristically cross. Her ears pricked, and quickly, she meowed. "It's not safe to talk here. I'll be helping your clan fight off these rogues, but I'll need a favor from Cliffstar when this is over."

His head nearly spun with confusion and mingled relief, and he blinked rapidly, thinking he may have been hallucinating. When he brought his gaze back to the tabby, he noticed with a prickle of worry that she was gone. "Where did she…?" he trailed off as a huge black tom came yowling in his direction, shouldering past him without as much as a glance. After a brief moment of confusion, Wolfpaw noticed that Foxpaw had latched onto his back, raking at the rogue's flank with his hind paws and biting down into the scruff of his neck.

He ran to the tabby's aid, only to be bowled over by another large brown tom. His white muzzle curled into a snarl, and he raised a paw to batter the apprentice. Trying hard to dodge, he leapt in the opposite direction of the rogue's paws, and turned on his hind leg to see that the brown tom was also gone. "What the…"

The rogue cats quickly began to flee, hissing and spitting insults as they fled, but BoulderClan were hot on their tails, chasing at barely a fox-length away. A yowl of triumph sounded from deeper inside the mine, and Lionfang leapt forward, his tail high and his eyes glowing with the wild light of battle.

"And _stay_ out!" he snarled.

Wolfpaw tried to share in his mentor's jubilance, but couldn't ignore the nagging suspicion inside his head that made him feel a bit awkward about their victory. Why had they given up so easily? Surely great rogues such as those would put up a better fight against skinny, starving cats? He glanced up to the proud warrior before him, finding his egotism contagious, and thought it might be best to let them be. After all, if the rogues had been beaten that easily, they wouldn't be back in a hurry. Not while Lionfang was still fighting, at least…

Soon enough, he noticed that Foxpaw and Vaporpaw, the medicine cat apprentice, were slowly making their way towards him. Despite harboring their scars and bleeding wounds, the cats seemed to have their tails held higher than usual. _Maybe fighting off massive cats like those gave them some hope after all? _Wolfpaw wondered.

"Are you two okay?" the blue-gray she-cat asked, her tone nervous and tense.

"We're fine," Lionfang responded, casting Wolfpaw a look that told him he had better be quiet.

"Well done; I'm glad to see that no cat was badly injured in the battle."

"I'm just happy that we were able to drive them out," Foxpaw piped up, lashing his tail enthusiastically. "I thought we'd all be crowfood!"

"You all fought like warriors today," she meowed suddenly. "I wouldn't put it past Cliffstar to make you warriors right on the spot."

Wolfpaw quickly got to his paws at the statement. "You think so?" he meowed hopefully.

Maybe there was hope for him yet in BoulderClan. If the clan leader trusted him enough to make him a warrior, perhaps the rest of them would have to trust him, too. Though, a contemptuous snort from the golden tom at his side made him think otherwise.

Vaporpaw's ears pricked. "Is there something wrong?"

"You say these apprentices fought like warriors, but Wolfpaw's been nothing but a hindrance the whole time," he spat, all his aggression aimed toward the lithe gray tom. "Every time I glanced back to him, he was under some other cat. Cliffstar would never trust an apprentice who can't protect his own tail to protect the whole _clan_!"

"Oh," was her only wanted to say something, to tell them that he truly did try his best, but he could say nothing. He looked away, grimacing as his mentor spoke again. "Maybe you should stay an apprentice for a few more moons," he meowed, "for the good of the clan."

For a moment he looked up, utterly shocked, and his eyes met with Foxpaw, who gave him an apologetic look. It was no secret that not every cat in the clan trusted him because of his roots, but if his pride weren't already snuffed, staying an apprentice while his friends became warriors would definitely do it. He would have to remain the only apprentice while all of his friends became full-fledged warriors, and there wasn't a thing he could do about it.

"Aw, come on!" Foxpaw groaned, exasperation obvious in his voice. "Did you _see_ those cats? If I hadn't known any better, I'd have thought we were being attacked by LionClan themselves!"

Vaporpaw looked as if she were going to chime in as well, but Lionfang shot Foxpaw a warning look and she shrank away. "You watch your tongue," he spat coldly. "Lest you'd want to remain an apprentice as well."

"I do," Foxpaw growled. "If Wolfpaw stays an apprentice, so do I."

"Foxpaw," the gray apprentice meowed quickly. "You don't have to—"

"Then so be it," Lionfang meowed sharply, every word dripping in venom.

The two cats locked gazes for a moment, an intense stare that none of the other cats could perceive. Though, Wolfpaw's ears pricked at a sudden yelp from deeper inside the mine, and a familiar silver tabby came limping toward the cats, her shoulder swollen and bleeding. Wolfpaw's heart lurched when he recognized her beautiful tabby stripes, matted with blood, and her sides heaving heavily with labored breathing.

"What happened?" Lionfang asked, but she merely coughed, a trickle of blood streaming from the corner of her mouth.

Vaporpaw's whole body tensed as she got up to meet the tattered apprentice. "Silverpaw, are you alright?"

The tabby apprentice did not reply. Wolfpaw stared in horror as she struggled to breathe, finally collapsing into the soggy mine floor with a thud. "Silverpaw!"

…

**Yeah, so… This kinda sucked… I tried my hand at editing my own work here, so my awesome-sauce beta didn't have a chance to work on it. That being said, I'd like some feedback on this chapter. You don't have to drool over my work, because I know it isn't that good, but I'd really appreciate the constructive criticism. ^.^ It'll help me to improve in the future. **

**XD Don't worry if you character wasn't introduced yet. I work slowly. =.= Review?**


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